<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Broken Man by hiccupfound</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28798899">Broken Man</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiccupfound/pseuds/hiccupfound'>hiccupfound</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>NQDM Universe [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:20:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28798899</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiccupfound/pseuds/hiccupfound</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Theodore Nott was not good enough for Luna Lovegood. What more was there to say about it?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Luna Lovegood/Theodore Nott</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>NQDM Universe [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Broken Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Where my Boys Love Girls fans at?<br/>Broken Man— listen to it if you want the genuine Theodore Nott headspace.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Theo was delusional.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a way, he supposed he always had been. </span>
</p>
<p>He’d believed in blood superiority for the first twenty years of his life, and that had turned out to be one of the most ridiculous notions out there.</p>
<p>He’d believed himself better than others simply because he was a part of House Nott. And he still did— believe he was better than others. But he’d come to realize that was because of his own ego and not what line he’d been born into.</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew he should kick the habit, that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>better than anyone based simply off premise. But right now— as he scrubbed dried blood off his hands and mud out of his hair— there were more pressing things to focus on. Besides, he believed in cosmic balance. The universe would give him his when it was time. Until then, he’d bide his time and be as arrogant as he wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>But out of all these things— the craziest notion he’d ever indulged in had to be Luna Lovegood.</p>
<p>
  <span>God, a kiss on the lips? For </span>
  <em>
    <span>New Years? </span>
  </em>
  <span>What was he thinking? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And why had he enjoyed it so much?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d kissed many girls in his time. In Hogwarts, he was quiet. Observant. There was something about his analytical ways, next to Draco’s boisterous attitude, that seemed to get him much more attention than he’d asked for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then, after school and before he’d realized things with the Dark Lord nonsense was doomed, he’d capitalized on his standing there as well.</span>
</p>
<p>He’d had an appetite. And he’d gotten his fill.</p>
<p>
  <span>Here at the Order however— he’d been left dry. Rightfully so. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>reasonable </span>
  </em>
  <span>that his bed was cold and lonely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some nights, when things got to be too much— when blood and dead bodies played on repeat behind his closed door and there seemed to be only </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing that was able to prevent it— he’d think of Daphne, the first girl he’d felt real lust after, or Pansy, because she was beautiful and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>desperate </span>
  </em>
  <span>to escape real life. One time, Granger— with her eyes closed in pleasure and her mouth framing around his name— had passed through his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had sat up so fast and he hadn’t had the guts to finish himself off. It was penance, he supposed. One should not wank to the only person in the house that had been willing to give him a chance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barring Luna, of course— but she didn’t count. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Luna Lovegood </span>
  </em>
  <span>had never even registered as a blip on his wank radar because— because— </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. He wasn’t exactly sure. She was odd, yes, but that had never stopped Theo in the past. A good body and a skilled mouth overtook everything else when he was in the mood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But after their kiss on New Years, he was forced to wonder about it. Why, weeks later, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn’t considering her a contender for his late night fantasies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had enjoyed their kiss. A lot. And he thought about it, and her, all the time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But a kiss like hers— that was warm and safe and made his stomach flutter in a way he’d never experienced before— it didn’t belong in between his twisted sheets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And one day, while he was sitting on the couch and nursing his arm that had nearly been severed off by his ex best friend and current Death Eater, Luna was sitting pressed next to him, chatting animatedly. Effectively distracting him from the awful pain that was Seamus Finnegan stitching each strand of skin back together. She was good like that, and he had to remind himself to not stare dreamily and to calm the frantic beating of his heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, Potter was calling her name and she was standing with his back to him, her arse less than a foot away from his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He evaded, choosing to count the ceiling tiles as opposed to ogle as he might normally. </span>
</p>
<p>And that’s when he realized— he respected Luna too much to treat her the way he was used to treating women. And yes, the stirrings of feeling something more for women other than lust and an unexplained hatred had been oncoming since he saw Pansy crying outside of Draco’s room three months before they decided they needed to get out. </p>
<p>This had been furthered spurred on with the representation of women fighters in the Order. For the Death Eaters, Pansy had been the only one below the age of forty. The rest of the woman whored or kept a low profile. </p>
<p>Granger had been the first woman he’d truly respected. Even with Pansy, he’d always seen her as Draco’s shadow, to some extent. It didn’t matter if she could duel him into a stalemate or not. He supposed that was the way of a Pureblood, elitist man. Even when they proved themselves, they’re still below you. </p>
<p>
  <span>Ginny came not long after Granger. He hated her, at first. Ginny could be a bitch, and even if he had deserved it, he loathed her for it all the same. Though her quick wit and merciless tongue was one of his favorite things about her now. </span>
</p>
<p>And Luna— well she was a given, wasn’t she? He’d never hated Luna, not really. Not during their Hogwarts days, and not even when he’d seen her slit Goyle’s throat a year back. She’d always been a formidable witch and Goyle was stupid. What else was there to say?</p>
<p>
  <span>Women like Luna— did they even think about sex? Yes, they had kissed, and yes, it had stirred something in him that felt both familiar and brand new in him. But that didn’t mean she wanted to take things any further. And thinking about her in— he shook his head, willing his body to calm down— in </span>
  <em>
    <span>compromising </span>
  </em>
  <span>positions felt like a disservice to her. Tainted wasn’t the correct word, but it was the closest one he could find that felt at least semi right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luna was sweet and good and genuine while Theo had spent his entire life covering and hiding under an act his father had beaten into his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Theo hadn’t wanted to be stoick and quiet. Analyzing and watching his peers under a suspicious gaze hadn’t come </span>
  <em>
    <span>naturally </span>
  </em>
  <span>to him. These were all things he’d worked on, had hammered into his head when his body could no longer take the beatings that refusing had gotten him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But now it was so deeply ingrained that he had to fight to be anything else. And someone like Luna— who probably didn’t even believe in pure evil— didn’t deserve to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>tainted </span>
  </em>
  <span>by someone who was just now believing in the good in the world. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was in the living room, alone, rewrapping the same injury on his arm that burned deep enough to cause panic each time he looked at it. Finnegan couldn’t heal it past reattaching it, and they didn’t have enough of any type of healing draught for it to be spared on any injury that wasn’t actively killing him. So he had to rely on the slow, agonizing heal of his body as the bone slowly fused back and the muscle reattached, fibre by fibre. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the middle of the night, but the specifics of this injury required him to change his gauze every three hours so that the pressure applied was consistent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t get it. And he certainly didn’t ask questions, despite his curiosity being peaked. There was no time, not during war. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Most of the time, he had Ginny to help him. She was a bit gentler, with more nimble and skilled fingers for such delicate acts. But he’d been able to sneak out from their room quietly enough to not wake her. He certainly wasn’t going to force her up.</span>
</p>
<p>So he stood in the dimly lit living room, grunting and hissing as he clumsily tried to tighten the bandage.</p>
<p>
  <span>“Magic is incredible, isn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He spun around, bandage falling from his fingers and untying from his arm, to see Luna leaning against the door jam. There was a steaming cup of tea in her hand, and for a moment he thought about hot cocoa and sweet kisses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He dropped his eyes almost immediately. “Sometimes I wish it could do more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She approached him slowly, silently. She placed her cup on the coffee table and reached onto the ground for his bandages, fingering them lightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In the muggle world, your arm wouldn’t have been able to be reattached at all.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She grabbed his arm, cold fingers causing a shudder to go through his body. The injury was on his upper arm, just above his elbow, and as Theo had had on a long sleeve jumper when he’d been sleeping, he was currently shirtless. He felt self conscious. Naked. Like he was showing Luna something that made her uncomfortable, though she didn’t react at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose I should be thankful, but currently I find it hard to focus on anything other than the annoyance of having to treat it, as well as the stinging pain that is feeling every part of my previously dismembered arm joining back with the rest of my body.”</span>
</p>
<p>Luna rolled the gauze skillfully around his arm. She was better than Ginny at this. He wondered if she knew. </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you looking for a distraction?” she asked, tying a perfect bow at the center of his arm. </span>
</p>
<p>Theo opened his mouth to respond, but his throat was suddenly very dry and he felt a coughing fit coming on.</p>
<p>
  <span>Luna didn’t seem to take notice of his state at all. She laid a hand delicately on his cheek and turned his head until his eyes met hers. Warm and blue— like the sky on a bright summer's day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her lips were pressing against his before he could think long enough to realize it was a bad idea. </span>
</p>
<p>It was just as warm as last time, tasting like sweetened black tea. His hand came up and cupped her jaw without his permission, turning her head and deepening the sensation. </p>
<p>
  <span>He was like a man who hadn’t drank in days, and Luna was an ice cold cup of water right before his body would succumb. He couldn’t stop himself— couldn’t pull away even as his brain caught up with his body. He needed more— he was just sipping when he needed to be gulping, to take everything without asking questions, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>devour—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He staggered away, gasping, shoulders heaving. He pressed the flat of his palm to his lips, urging the tingling to disperse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luna stood, looking rather unruffled besides the red tint her lips now held. They looked even more kissable than previously. Theo groaned, running his fingers through his hair.</span>
</p>
<p>“What are you doing?”</p>
<p>
  <span>Luna tilted her head to the side. “Distracting you. Was it not adequate? I suppose I could have used more tongue.” Theo’s eyes bulged. “But I didn’t want to come on too strong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Theo wanted to laugh. He wanted to run and hide. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He planted his feet firmly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing, down here talking and—” his throat dried like the desert once more, “—and </span>
  <em>
    <span>snogging </span>
  </em>
  <span>me like that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luna squinted her eyes. “I wanted to snog you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you realize what can happen when you snog a guy like me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything I’ve imagined that comes with snogging you I’ve quite enjoyed fantasizing about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I— you can’t— </span>
  <em>
    <span>we </span>
  </em>
  <span>can’t—” he was sputtering, not making any sense but how was he supposed to organize a coherent sentence when she— </span>
  <em>
    <span>Luna bloody Lovegood— </span>
  </em>
  <span>was saying things like that?</span>
</p>
<p>“Do you even know what follows snogging?”</p>
<p>
  <span>It slipped out. A consequence of his lust filled brain and his need to say something that made sense before she walked away and labeled him a fool.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This… this was not what he meant to come out. He should have called himself a bad man and reminded her that he could obliterate her. That men like him shouldn’t be able to look at women like her, nevermind get the privilege of snogging. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Any other woman would have made their dramatic exit by now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Rightfully so, </span>
  </em>
  <span>his brain reminded him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course. But Luna… she wasn’t like other women. Or maybe he should stop comparing women altogether, because all of his assumptions had been torn apart by the ladies of The Order. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure— but regardless, Luna stood there with her arms crossed lightly over her chest and a smile on her face. Not the usual one— the airy, light one that used to make him uneasy but now caused small butterflies to break from their cocoons in his stomach— but a deep, dark smile that reminded him of rumpled sheets and dark bedrooms with silencing charms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Theo throat bobbed. He wanted to drop his eyes, but he felt stuck, entranced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She approached him slowly, righting his bandage which had shifted slightly while he was raking his fingers through his hair. Her eyes never left his. A deep blue now, mysterious like the depths of the ocean. A curiosity sparked in him. He wanted to explore, suddenly. To find how deep he could go before they drowned him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m quite aware of how people view me,” she said, voice no louder than it normally was. “I see a lot more than people give me credit for.”</span>
</p>
<p>“You’re analytical.”</p>
<p>She shrugged. “Perhaps. I just like to watch people. I want to know what drives them, what causes them to do what they do, day in and day out.”</p>
<p>
  <span>Theo swallowed heavily. Gods, he should have asked Luna for a sip of her tea. “And what about me?” he whispered. “What drives me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She searched his face. Asking. Learning. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Trusting. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your need to keep up your facade.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He exhaled harshly, fanning out Luna’s hair. His hands were shaking as he reached up and held onto her by the shoulders, ache in his arm long forgotten. </span>
</p>
<p>“But I see you, too,” she continued. “The way you tense up whenever Pansy and Neville argue. How you inch towards Ginny in any room. You’re always at the back of the line to get healed, even when your injuries are far more severe than those in front of you.”</p>
<p>
  <span>Did he..? Yes, he supposed he did all those things. Pansy didn’t need defending, but it never hurt to be prepared, and Ginny was one of the few people that he felt truly and completely safe around. That feeling was addicting, and whenever she was too far he felt raw and exposed— an ugly wound on the face of The Order. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As for the healing… well, any pain that was thrust upon him was cosmic justice. He’d spent his fair share of time inflicting it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She cupped his jaw, leaning forward, her voice a mere breath against his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like what I see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaned in slowly this time. Waiting. Asking. He closed the distance halfway through.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was something so powerful about new perspective. And having someone like Luna— sweet, sweet Luna that was trapped in Draco’s basement for months and still swore by his kind heartedness— see just as much as he did, and swear by the good in the world, was so refreshing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because it wasn’t about what he saw, but how he’d shaped it. Yes, sometimes he was right. A lot, if he was honest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Luna. Luna was right a lot too. And as her lips devoured his and her hands ran down his chest and reached for his trousers, he realized that if she thought he was worthy of this, then maybe, one day, he might be.</span>
</p>
<p>She pushed him down onto the couch with his button undone and belt removed. She shoved her own sleep pants off, and briefly Theo wondered if this wasn’t the worst place for this to be happening. </p>
<p>
  <span>Sleep schedules were sporadic at best in this house. Someone could walk in at any moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then Luna brought his hand up to her chest, under the shirt she still donned and all rational thought flew out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t like any sex he’d had yet. There was no hair pulling or painful teeth marking. Luna didn’t avert her eyes or accentuate her moans dramatically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was slow and steady, pumping on top of him patiently with little breathy sounds escaping her lips— so genuine in their release that his nerves were set on fire. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her kisses were deep and meaningful, communicating more than his words could ever. In a way, it reminded him of the bind, of the way he didn’t need to speak to Ginny to tell her what was happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t need to fake it— didn’t need to hold back because he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be rough and demeaning with her. He felt victorious whenever something made her feel good and he craved that more and more as she seemed to get close on top of him. He found himself spurred on more by her getting off than the actual sex itself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the sex. Oh Salazaar, once he let himself focus on her sliding up and down him, her hands in his hair and her breasts pressed against him— it didn’t take long to find release.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sat there after, Luna cuddled into his side, breathing even against his chest as he played with her hair, he spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I underestimated you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turned her head and looked up at him, a smile so familiar and personal that his heart clenched. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t. And you never will.”</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for all the — in this work. When I’m in Theo’s headspace for this specific work, his thoughts are just so disjointed and he’s confused. They just felt right.<br/>My love for thuna has grown so much over the past week. They’re similar in so many ways— the way they analyze and watch and have insight on the things they see. But at the same time, they’re at opposite ends of the spectrum. Theo is quiet and cold and calculating. Luna is warm and all knowing and honest.<br/>THEYRE JUST SO GOOD TOGETHER</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>